I can have my cake and eat it too.

Miserable morning. half the day has died without me. Miserable soberization.
Yesterday I heard her name. Two, three times. Rebecca prime. the original variation. only took a moment to remember who she was. To remember why I should recognize the name. not the person. Just the name. we’re strangers. familiar strangers. not paradoxically or oxymoronically. I peer into her existence and she sees me seeing her. She looks into mine as I watch her watching me. we don’t know one another. pas du tout. But she knows about me. and I know about her. Not much. Maybe enough. neither of us are sure. about anything. We’ve caught the static-y gist. I can’t help but feel badly. I wish I could have given her something. something she wanted much more than I ever did. something that foolishly preferred me. she would have been better to it. Maybe not for it. Can’t say. I don’t suppose I know it well enough even after these years to know what was good for it. at any rate it wasn’t me. or at least I didn’t want it to be me. perhaps I didn’t care enough even if it was me. it will be fine. i hope the same goes for Rebecca prime. yes I’m quite sure of it. nonetheless, the injustice is ridiculous. I’m glad she didn’t hear my name yesterday. I’m glad I don’t have a name.
Right. I don’t have a name. I don’t need one. I don’t deserve one. I simply narrate. Mostly in third person because ‘she’ is so much less startling than ‘I.’ though I did have a name once. just a little while ago actually. I deleted it all by myself. With the unintentional help of Rebecca. Not Rebecca prime. plain Rebecca. god. there are too many Rebeccas. Even I’m a Rebecca. am is are was were. It doesn’t matter. Because now I matter. I like to think I matter. I don’t care enough even if I don’t really matter. I will be fine. I hope the same goes for you.